


Snowed In

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Cuddling, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Snowed In, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: The Master's plan goes horribly wrong (how else could it be?) and he and the Doctor find themselves snowed in inside a cold, dark hut, having to spend the night together. And oh. There's only one bed. :)
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 79





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Acidsoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidsoul/gifts).



> You prompt me, I deliver. Apparently I cannot stop myself, even if I really, really should. Apparantly I get a prompt and get so happy someone actually actively wants something from me, I go all in. Apparently I just wrote 3700 words. I'm okay. You didn't even have to bribe me. <3

Things had gone wrong from the moment he showed up.

They usually did. She couldn't exactly say she was surprised. It was how it usually went. The Master showed up, pulling off a stupid disguise he had used on her, the Doctor felt double stupid for not having seen through the stupid disguise and things fell into chaos.

And she had to say, when the storm of the Master's weather machine got so bad, she could barely walk through the wind and the snow anymore, that everything was still following the pattern.

A stupid plan from a stupid man in a stupid disguise, backfiring stupidly.

God, she hated him in this moment. Hated him so much, as she looked at her snowed in TARDIS, then to his, where he stood, looking just as shocked as she felt, hoping for a miracle. The snow was almost up to her hips now and the blizzard still going, there was no way she was going to be able to open the doors and if she didn't hurry, she'd turn into a snowman herself.

There was a hut not far away from them. The veranda had been protected from the rapid snowfall by a roof – even though it looked like it was threatening to crash soon - She tugged at the Master's sleeves, not sure why she even _bothered_ and he nodded, climbing through the masses and masses of snow around them towards the safety of the hut.

She could barely see him anymore through the dense snow falling and blocking her view, huge, white flocks getting stuck in her eyelashes before they melted and leaving wet drops in her eyes. She was on all fours almost, crawling over the snow until she finally felt reached the edge of the veranda and jumped onto it.

“Come on, quickly,” he called, his hands frantically waving around as she came closer.

“Is someone inside who can open for us?” she asked and he gave her a glare that could've frozen her insides, if it wasn't already unbearable cold.

“What do you have your sonic screwdriver for? Roasting marshmallows over the fire?”

“Don't mention that word,” the Doctor wailed, trying her hardest not to think about any kind of fire, while she looked for her screwdriver with trembling hands.

She fished it out and the Master watched with a groan as it fell to the ground and she picked it up again, before she could finally open the doors with stiff fingers.

He pushed her to the side with his shoulder to rush in first.

“Charming,” she mumbled as she quickly shut the door behind them. It was not much warmer inside, if she was being totally honest. The whole shack seemed abandoned, probably just an abandoned holiday house. Dust was settled on every surface and the window blinds closed. She kept them that way and instead worked on fixing the lights – They would probably be soon so snowed in that they'd need them.

The Master watched her work on the electrics for a few seconds, then shrugged and headed for the living room.

“There's a fireplace here,” he called. “Any idea where to get wood from?”

“They might have some stored in the basement?” the Doctor called back, feeling a new wave of despair. She wasn't kidding herself, if they didn't get a heating or a fire running, they'd freeze to death in here. And that would be such an undignified regeneration.

Though, she thought bitterly to herself, it would probably melt the snow.

“There's some wood down here!”

Well, that was that solved. The Doctor called out a little “hah” as the lights sprang back to life and looked around the little hut some more.

Old, wooden furniture in good condition, a bookshelf full with books who seemed still readable and a kitchen with – She took a curious look around – enough canned food to get through for a few days.

The Master came back up with his arms full of logs and let them fall next to the fireplace with a groan.

“Bloody humans and their backwards technology. Who even uses fireplaces in winter anymore? It's not that hard to get electrical heat, surely, in this century?”

“I don't think they were expecting quite the amount of snow you have brought them for this winter,” the Doctor retorted sharply and as if to underline her words, the little roof of the veranda took this exact moment to give out and burst into a splintering mess with loud creaking noises, slightly muffled by the snow burying it.

The Master had the decency to look sheepish.

“If you hadn't come to mess with...”

“Oh please,” she interrupted him with a roll of her eyes. “You were expecting me to mess with your plan. You were _building_ on it. And yet the only solution you came up with was 'Oh, huh, what does this big red button at the side do?'”

“I know every button on my machine!” the Master called back offended. “I built it myself! I just... might have... underestimated the full extents.”

The Doctor pointed to one of the snowed in windows beside her.

“You _think_?”

“It's gonna be fine,” the Master spit back, but his voice had lost a bit of his bite. “I set the machine to shut itself off after... a day. Might a bit longer to melt all back to normal but it... it will.”

“Well, great,” the Doctor sighed, rubbing over her forehead as sudden exhaustion came over her. “Until then, we're trapped in here.”

“Thanks, I wouldn't have noticed,” the Master grumbled and turned back to the fireplace to put the logs into place and work on starting a fire.

She sat down on the carpet before it, watching him for a while, her arms clasped around her chest as the cold seemed to try its very best to claim her before it had to back away.

He seemed to have enough of her trembling, his nerves thin as he turned back around to her.

“You might want to check for some blankets or something. This could take a while.”

“What do you mean it could take a while?” she asked. “You know how to make a fire, right?”

“Sorry, do you see matches anywhere?” he hissed back.

“I'm just saying,” the Doctor insisted. “As the bringer of chaos and destruction, you of all people should be able to start a simple...-”

“Go on like this and I'll set you on fire personally.”

“Oh, that's great, are you going to do that before or after you bury me in snow? As bad plans go, that one was particularly...”

“Yes, yes, I know, will you just go and grab some blankets so I can get this wet wood to dry and burn in peace?”

With an exasperated growl, the Doctor jumped to her feet and started searching every cupboard and closet for blankets. She found a fairly thin fleece blanket and a duvet on a single double bed in the room furthest away.

Well, this was going to spark a war.

When she returned into the living room, there was a fire burning in the fireplace and the Master was sitting before it, head resting on his drawn-in knees and his lips paling and trembling.

She rolled her eyes as she sat down next to him, wrapping the duvet around his shoulders.

“Those are all I could find.”

He nodded and pulled it tighter around himself.

The Doctor waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Finally, she sighed.

“You're not going to offer me to share, are you?”

He gave her a side glance that clearly intended to call her stupid.

“You're such a bastard.”

She wrapped the thin fleece blanket around herself and slid closer to the fire, as far away from him as the floor allowed her without setting the fabric on fire.

“Hey, you're blocking all the warmth if you sit in front of it like that!” he called out and she turned around to him, her eyebrows raised.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're supposed to be a scientist, you know how...”

But he had already started to pull on her blanket to drag her back.

“Master, stop!” she called out, grabbing her blanket so it wouldn't slid off her shoulders and trying her best to tug it back. “That's my only blanket, don't...-”

He let go of his corner and they watched it both, as it, seemingly in slow motion, swung back to the Doctor and back a bit further, until the corner caught flames.

Shocked, the Doctor watched it, as if hypnotised, until she noticed the Master panicky tearing at the blanket surrounding her and throwing it into the fire before the flames reached her.

She watched it grow black and crumple in the fire as the room began to stink of burning textile.

“Come on, then,” he grumbled after a long pause in which none of them spoke, when he had settled back down to the floor in his own blanket, pretending not to be out of breath.

He was holding open his arms for her to slip under the duvet with him.

The Doctor bit her lower lip, hesitating, but the cold won over her and with a sigh, she crawled back to him and into the warmth of the duvet. He held his arms close to his body, determinedly _not_ embracing her and did his best to turn his head and look as far away from her as he could, as if he was scared to catch a contagious disease from her.  
  
“We might as well get used to it,” the Doctor said after a little while. “Since there's only one bed. And one blanket to sleep with in the first place.”

The Master's head turned back towards her incredibly slowly, a defeated expression on his face.

“What?”

He had heard her just fine and so, instead of repeating what she had said, the Doctor just uncomfortably shrugged.

The problem wasn't that she didn't like sitting this close to the Master – The problem was that she did. She could feel warmth radiate from him, knew that if she moved just a little bit, her shoulders would bump against his. A little to the right and she would be able to let her head fall onto his shoulder. They could be sitting together peacefully.

Except that they couldn't.

And that realisation hurt her more than she cared to admit.

“Should we try and get something to eat?” the Doctor asked after a little more while, when felt a bit warmer and couldn't stand the closeness to the Master anymore. “Get the oven running, maybe, to heat up the rest of the hut?”

“You're not going anywhere near the kitchen,” the Master grumbled. “I'll take care of it.”

“Excuse me?” the Doctor called out immediately. “I can cook!”

“Please, you can't even sit by a fireplace without setting a blanket on fire!”

“That was you!” The Doctor jumped up, leaving the duvet behind in her anger.

“If that's how close you sit to a fireplace, I don't even want to know what you're doing to the poor oven,” the Master continued to tease her, as if he hadn't heard her reply, mouth contorted to the dark parody of a grin.

He got up along with her, walking towards the kitchen and with a dark glare, the Doctor looked after him, duvet wrapped tightly around her body now, while she pretended not to be able to feel his heat still inside.  
  
It even smelled of his stupid aftershave.

“Go to hell,” she hissed after him, before turning around and heading for the bedroom.

She couldn't sleep, of course she couldn't. Instead she was staring of the constantly darkening window, willing the snow to melt from the heat of her hatred alone.

It didn't, of course, but she imagined that at least the snowfall had slowly lessened and then stopped. At least she couldn't see any more snow be added to the already existing wall currently blackening the windows.

The sooner she could get away from this utter bastard, the better. Bad enough that she would definitely have to spend the night with him, but the idea of actually spending more time with him _awake_? No thanks.

The Master came into the bedroom circa half an hour later, but that time was enough for her to lie on the mattress freezing and trembling again.

With a sigh, he sat down next to her and waited until she reluctantly sat up and looked at him, then pressed a mug of steaming hot chocolate into her hands and put a plate with rice and beans onto her lap.

“Best I could do,” he muttered, before sitting down next to her and carefully pulling out a corner of her blanket for himself, before digging into his own meal.

The Doctor watched him for a second, stunned, then sniffed at her cocoa.

“It's not poisoned.”

“Can never know with you,” she grumbled back, but took a deep sip anyway.

It was delicious and sweet and so warm and it seemed to shoot new life right through her veins.

“Guess not,” he admitted, seeming almost apologetic. “But I promise, if I wanted you dead, I'd just take away the duvet in your sleep and watch you tremble to death. Much more satisfying.”

She gave him a look and he sighed.

“But I'm not gonna do that. Because I obviously don't want you dead, silly. Now eat.”

She took a fork and damn him, right now the stupid canned beans tasted like the best thing she had ever eaten.

“How come?” the Doctor finally asked and he looked up with a questioning expression.

She swallowed before she could speak again, feeling the warmth wander down her body along with the food.

“How come you don't want me dead, I mean.”

“I don't know,” he shrugged. “You're a pain in the ass, but you're my friend.”

She snorted. “Sorry, where was that energy when you pretended to be a human for years just to trick and murder me?”

“Please,” he gave back with a huff. “I I had wanted to murder you, I would've just done that in the three times you slept next to me when you thought I was O.”

She gave him one of her best glares.

“Don't you go there. Don't you dare. It's bad enough you did that.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” he gave back. “Like you didn't want me then.”

“I didn't know it was _you_!”

“Well, now you know. Did it change anything?”

 _No_ , she thought.

“That's not the point,” she said and he laughed.

“That's what I thought.”

“Go to hell.”

“You already said that, love.” He comfortably continued eating his rice and the Doctor, still glaring at him once in a while, did the same.

“Is the fire still on?” she asked after a while, when they were done with eating and the effects of the hot chocolate were slowly fading.

“Yeah. We should check every once in a while and put new logs in, though. And maybe keep the door open, so heat can come in?”

She nodded.

He looked at her expectantly and she looked back at him with a cold smile.

“Fine,” he finally sighed and rolled out of the bed. “But I demand more blanket when I come back. If I come back.”

Against her will, a little giggle escaped the Doctor.

“Stop being dramatic.”

“I can't,” he replied theatrically, a hand to his forehead. “It's in my genes.”

“That explains a lot.” She was still giggling when he returned. Orange, warm glow was coming from the door he had left open now, and he balanced two freshly, steaming cups of cocoa.

“I found some rum and added it in,” he hastily told her before she could gulp down the whole thing. “Should keep us warm a little longer.”

Nodding, the Doctor tried little sips at first, but the bittersweet warmth was so good and the fear of it growing cold in the darkness so big, she simply couldn't help herself.

With a sigh, the Master handed her the rest of his.

“You sure?” she asked, but he simply shrugged.

“I'm tired anyway. And not a big fan of the sweet.”

He lay down, as close to the edge of the bed as he could, to catch some warmth still coming from the fireplace, but it clearly didn't help much – He was still trembling.

With a sigh, the Doctor set down the now empty cup and settled down next to him, crawling closer towards him.

“Come on. Have you not seen any movie ever? Body heat helps.”

He turned his head to her, looking incredulous.

“I don't watch movies,” he finally replied. “I read.”

“Ohhh, alright Mr. Intellectual. Tell that the Teletubbies.”

He stared at her with open mouth.

“That was a very educational show about aliens in the...”

“It was a show for three year old humans with badly constructed puppets,” the Doctor replied with a grin. “And don't even get me started on the Clangers – Oh yeah, they told me that you binged it in prison.”

“Fine,” the Master finally spat. “I watch _some_ things.”

“Come on.” She opened her arms under the blanket. “A bit of cuddling never hurt anybody. We're _friends_ after all, aren't we?”

“Fine friend you are,” he grumbled. “Ruining the Teletubbies for me.” But he bridged the last distance between them, pulling her into his arms and wrapping his legs around her waist like a Koala. “This better work.”

“I don't know about you, but I feel better already.”

He muttered something indistinct, suddenly sounding a bit embarrassed, but she just laughed gently. He was warm and cosy and the duvet helped saving some of the body heat between them, making it almost comfortable.

Now that she allowed her body and mind a minute of rest, she could suddenly feel how exhausted the day had left her. The Doctor's eyes fluttered shut in the reassuring warmth...

“Hey... Doctor. Doctor! Come on, wake up!”

She was being shaken but utterly unwilling to move, let her body be pushed around...

“Doctor!”

Warm hands grabbed her face. She could feel the stiffness of her own cheeks, the sudden heat of the grip around them causing her freezing skin something close to pain.

“Doctor, please!”

Warm lips kissed hers and she suddenly noticed that hers were hard and ice cold. She started trembling, tearing open her eyes.

“What... what?”

“Oh, thank God.” Someone – The Master, she realised – pulled her into his arms, so tightly for a second she had to struggle for breath.

Confused, she looked up as he let go of her again, taking her face back into his hands.

“You had me worried there, you just wouldn't wake up. We forgot to set an alarm and the fire went out and we slept in the cold for damn long.”

Oh. Fire. Right. Snow storm. Massive snow-in. The memories stumbled back into her brain as if they were melting back into living and her head turned towards the window.

“Hey, it's melting.”

“Slowly but steadily,” he sighed. “Come on, we gotta make a new fire and sit you down a little. You're completely blue.”

She didn't want to take his hand when he offered it, but as she got up, she felt herself wobble and shake dangerously, and so she clung to his shoulder after all, let him lead her out of the bedroom and back into the living room, the duvet still wrapped around her.

“How come you're not cold?” she asked and he shrugged.

“I am, 's just not as bad. I'm wearing warmer clothes. Come on.”

He sat her down in front of the fireplace and rushed off to get more wood.

“Hey Master?” she asked, still sleepy and in shock from the cold, when he had fixed the fire and sat down next to her, stealing a corner of the duvet.

“Yeah?”

She looked at him with a frown.

“Did you kiss me earlier?”

He stared at her, clearly looking for words, his lips opening and closing a few times in what she was sure was not a tremble.

Then he shrugged.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said, looking back into the flames for at least two seconds, before turning back to him.

He pretended not to notice her, also looking into the fire, but she noticed the very obvious way he swallowed as he avoided her gaze.

“Wanna do it again?” she asked.

When they stumbled out of the hut, they did so arm and arm, both a mix of disappointed but mostly relieved to soon be back in the uncontested warmth of their ships.

They stood in front of the Doctor's TARDIS for far too long, awkwardly shuffling their feet in the mud and deep puddles of water.

“So,” the Doctor said after a while.

“Mh-hm,” the Master hummed in agreement.

“Thanks for... for keeping me alive, I think. I don't... I mean...”

“Yeah,” he finally helped her out of her misery. “You were pretty bad at staying alive.”

She grinned.

“Well, I suppose it's your... uhm... field of expertise.”

“Yeah, I'm fairly good at it.”

He had his hands in his pockets and was staring down at the mud he was shoving back and forth.

“So uhm...” she said in the exact moment he said “So....”

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” she sighed. “Get your bloody TARDIS in here. I'm refuse to sleep alone tonight. I'm still all cold. Might take days for me to warm up properly.”

The Master looked up slowly, a grin spreading on his face.

“I'll be with you in a minute.”


End file.
